


Midnight Blue

by Omnibard



Series: Midnight Blue [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, polyship, polyship AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 07:45:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17658806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnibard/pseuds/Omnibard
Summary: This is the narrative of the 'Midnight Blue AU'





	Midnight Blue

Nyx Ulric was in decidedly too much pain to address the tall man in Lucian black coated head to foot in concrete dust who approached with long booted strides.  He was familiar, but between the sun peering over the horizon, bleeding through the smoke, and the intense burns in half of his body, torching through lungs that only managed ragged, shallow breaths now, Nyx couldn’t summon the give-a-damn to place his name.

The tall man carried a long, thin sword in his hand at his side, the other hand cautiously closed around the grip, ready to draw.  Wondering why he kept the blade sheathed in an obvious war zone, the Kingsglaive watched him zero in on the armored corpse seven feet away from where he lay.

“Glauca…” He said quietly

As he neared, the nagging familiarity intensified, watching the stern lines of his face harden as he recognized the face of the traitor, “ … Drautos…”

“Mm, _yeah_.” Nyx affirmed weakly.

The ice cold eyes raised to his face, and the Kingsglaive still couldn’t place the man’s name, but he  _ did _ remember that this man was important, and powerful, and had come with a tag of ‘should never fuck with’ for some reason…

“So you’re alive.” He said without inflection, “... Where is the Ring?”

Not in the mood for an interrogation, and too exhausted and in too much pain to crack wise, he simply gestured toward the horizon with the fingers of his good hand and grunted, “Gone.  Outside.”

“With whom?” The man was implacable.

Nyx attempted a sigh, but it wracked his entire body with such pain that he groaned in spite of himself, “Look… I’m prolly supposed t’call you ‘sir’... But I’m about two minutes from royally-ordained death, so’m not going to.  Been a long night. Let a guy die in peace.”

The man blinked, then turned his body fully away from the traitor and closed the distance between them in three brisk strides before crouching on his haunches, “... It  _ has _ been a long night, and nobody I know has died peacefully.  Not sure why you think you deserve different. You’re probably supposed to call me ‘sir’, but you can call me ‘Cor’...”   Then he pulled a small glass bottle of the ether and crushed it in his hand so that the softly glowing blue fluid and crystalline dust rained down over Nyx’s chest, “... And you can answer my questions.  They’re important.”

Sensation scorched through his body once more, reviving deadened nerves as flesh knitted together only to start burning again.  His lungs cleared, but the air tasted bloody, so he coughed and coughed.

“Who took the Ring?” Cor asked again, and once his coughing fit ended, the Kingsglaive was alert enough to put the name and face together in his memory.  This was Cor Leonis, Marshal of the Crownsguard, and one of the Hands of the King of Lucis. Cor the  _ Immortal _ , they called him.  He was a legend, a celebrity public figure, and an enigma all in a pair of slacks and a sports jacket, with close-cropped hair, and a neatly trimmed, chinstrap beard.

“Why do you want to know?  You can’t wear it…”

The icy eyes caught and pinned Nyx’s gaze, and he felt the slightest inclination to shrink away before the very thought of it rankled his Gahladian pride, “No.  I can’t. Looks like you managed it, though. It needs to be secured and delivered to the King.”

“He’s dead,” Was the bitter retort, and watching something buckle in those icy eyes, a glacial shift without the concussive force, was a punishment, because at that moment, Nyx realized that the Marshal, unlike the Kingsglaive Captain, was still loyal.  So he said, somewhat more gently, “... The King is dead.”

“... Drautos.”

“Yes.”

“... So Clarus Amicitia is also dead.”  It wasn't a question.  


“Yeah.  A lot of Councilmen too…  Most of the Kingsglaive. A lot of SPs.”

“A lot of people in general.” Cor summarized, “... It’s been a long night.  Drink this.”

Another bottle out of the ether was shoved against his lips, the glowing liquid sloshing into his mouth.  It fizzled against torched flesh, and bubbled going down his burning throat, but had no taste.

“... How many of those do you got?”

“Plenty.”

“Save them for the wounded, Marshal.  I’m a dead man stealing time. The Old Kings made me a bargain.”

The implacable look was still on the tall man’s face, “... What’s your name, Glaive?”

“Nyx.”

“... You bartered away your life to kill the traitor who killed my king and keep the Ring out of Niflheim’s hands, Nyx?”

Shrugging, Nyx said, “More or less.  Though at the time it was a toss-up between petty spite, revenge for my friends who stayed loyal, and securing the future… A lot of it was petty spite, to be perfectly honest…”

Snorting sharply out of his nose, Cor replied, “... Well, I didn’t make any deals with the Old Kings, and you have the answers I need.”

“... So you’re just gonna keep shoving those potions down my throat every twenty minutes to keep me alive?  For answers?”

“... That and petty spite.” Was the straight-faced answer.  Nyx laughed, and decided he could probably learn to like Cor Leonis.


End file.
